A Night In His Bed
by eseldie
Summary: When you want something bad enough...
1. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer: I do not own Human Target and intend no copyright infringement.**

**Author's Notes: This one just felt right.**

**A Night In His Bed**

It was cold…..colder than normal for the state of California. It was the type of cold that seeped into a person's body and down to their bones, so that the only way to escape it was to seek refuge inside. It was cold enough for all the mothers to stay inside and not attempt their daily walk with their children in tow…or for that matter even let them out of the house at all. It was cold enough that the businessmen of the city didn't take the time to chat after work on the curbside. The kind of cold that made them pull the lapels of their jackets over their ears to spare what warmed flesh they had left. It was cold enough for taxi drivers to turn up their heat to spare the hustled passengers some much needed relief. When that occurred, the cold had taken over. Damn…it was cold.

The woman walking down the street had been devoured by that same cold. She had walked for several blocks into the misty air that had frozen so many around her. She must not have realized the daily forecast, or completely disregarded it because her body was becoming part of the air around her. The dejection on her face was readable to anyone that passed her. She looked like she had fallen in between a state of shock, anger and fear. Of course no one realized it was loneliness and hurt.

She lifted her leather-clad palms to the top of her jacket and pulled it tighter around her chest. Her subconscious had fooled her into thinking that her core temperature was rising, when in reality she was only getting colder. Nothing covered her head. Her face had begun to turn a light crimson considering it was exposed. There was no way to save the final state it would have become by the time she reached her destination. She didn't care. She felt like she needed to punish herself for letting him go…for letting him vanish.

When she finally reached the red façade of her new business, she stopped and gazed to the rooftop. She stepped closer to the cold menacing building before her and reached out. She ran her gloved hands over the freezing brick. Resting as if she had been caught, she pulled her hand back. What was she doing there? Even she didn't know.

* * *

When the elevator doors finally closed, she leaned against the rail and exhaled in relief. Her heart was racing, knowing she shouldn't have been there in the first place, but it was the only place she could find comfort. The only place she knew would be a refuge. The only place….she could remember…him.

1 WEEK PRIOR

"Chance….why? Tell me why?" Her thick British accent lingered in the air as he continued packing his gray duffel bag. She crossed her arms as if it would have made a difference. "You have yet to give me a legitimate reason why you have to just take off and….." He cut her off in a stern voice. "Look Ilsa, I've told you a thousand times. I'm not getting you involved in something I know damn well will put you in danger, or possibly get you killed. I don't have time for this." He had simply put her in her place and she wasn't happy about it in the very least. She stood her ground. "You know, you're always so self righteous in your quest. You always claim to be worried about me when you know damn well you don't have to be a part of this." He moved to the foot of the bed and sat down, watching her intently.

She started at him again. The anger and emotion began to brim up inside of her and her eyes began to water as she spoke. "This is a pathetic excuse for you to find some answer that doesn't exist. You're chasing after a man that you once trusted, and now you think because he isn't dead, it's your job to kill him." The tears began to flow freely as she spoke through a choked voice. "I'm supposed to sit here and wait for God only knows how long, hoping and praying you don't come home in a body bag." He stood up to confront her, realizing she was slowly losing control over her emotions. She pointed her finger at him. "You….you're just…you're just…."

And then it happened. Her emotions began to release themselves. He knew exactly what he was up against as he stepped towards her. She tried to stand her ground. "…all you're going to do is leave…and I…I…" He reached out to her as the tears fell harder. She couldn't keep her composure as he embraced her. Her body immediately found solace in his arms. She hurt. She hurt bad and he knew it. It hurt him just as much seeing her cry and even more knowing that he had to leave her. The entire team had gotten threats from Baptiste. Threats enough so that he needed to find him…and kill him...no matter what. But he couldn't tell Ilsa where he was going. He knew she would try to follow. This was his quest, and it was a quest to protect her.

He rubbed her back as she continued to cry in his arms. It cut his heart open, knowing how bad she hated to see him leave. When she finally began to calm herself, he leaned down and kissed the top of her head. He spoke softly in a low, deep voice. "Ilsa…you know the most important thing in my life now is to protect you. Ever since I told you I'd never let you go…I meant it. I'd fight a million men to make sure you're safe, and if I have to cross the world to kill one, then so be it. You mean too much to me." He squeezed her tighter with the last of his words.

"Chance I can't do this. I can't draw breath knowing you might not come back." He leaned back and forced her to meet his gaze. It hurt him again seeing her upset. Raising a hand to her face, he spoke again. "I promise…I WILL be back." She closed her eyes and inhaled deeply. With the last of her tears, he led her to his bed. He lay down, slowly pulling her beside him. She settled into his embrace and met his quiet blue eyes. "Do you promise Chance? Do you promise to come back to me?" He smiled at her. "Who else is going to put up with you Ilsa?" She managed a tear filled smile as he tightened his hold.

"Whenever you feel sad or afraid, I want you to come right here..in this very spot, and remember how we spent it. I'll always be right here with you." She leaned in and met his lips. With every part of her soul, she kissed him. She kissed him with the reassurance that she would never forget this last moment. In turn he kissed her back, reassuring her that he would be back no matter what. Back into her arms…in this very place. Her eyes had grown heavy and sleep was beginning to overtake her. She placed a hand on his cheek. " I lov..love you…Chan…ch…" Then she slept. He smiled at her attempt to complete her thoughts and closed his eyes. "I love you too Ilsa."

The next morning, she woke up with a start. She struggled to get a handle on her surroundings then pulled the blankets from her hips. Without looking, her hand felt the empty spot beside her and she closed her eyes. The events of the night flooded her memory. She jumped out of the bed and covered her self with the duvet. Hurrying down from the loft she scanned vigorously for him. She all but went into a full panic when she spotted Winston and stopped cold. Not because she was naked under her new lover's duvet, but because she knew the words that were about to flow from her co-worker's lips. She looked at him but could only manage one word. "Winton?"

He could see the hurt in her eyes and could only shake his head. She couldn't handle it and fell to the floor in a heap of emotion. Winston hurried up to her and knelt down. She was shaking and trying to catch her breath when she reached out and held him. He knew exactly what she was thinking but also knew that Chance had to do what was necessary. He just held her tighter. "I know Ilsa…I know."

* * *

When the elevator doors opened, she stepped out into the barren wasteland that was her new business venture. The team had set off onto their own adventures, knowing that Chance might have been gone for more time than expected. Even with the heat regulating the empty warehouse, she still felt cold. Her high heels clicked on the metallic floor as she made her way past the conference room. She recalled how they had made love on that table with reckless abandon. She had never seen herself as the wild type, but Christopher Chance changed all that. As she moved past her own office, she stared at her couch and remembered the countless times Chance interrupted her workflow. He always felt like she was becoming a workaholic and he made sure to bother her when he thought the work was too overwhelming.

When she got to the bottom of the stairs leading up to his loft she stopped. She remembered the first time he had invited her to his bed. He stopped at the first step, reassuring her that he would never break her heart, and that she had to take the next step. She remembered vividly how she trusted him beyond reason and that walking up those stairs would change her heart for the better.

When she got to the top of the stairs, she shed her coat. Somehow, she wasn't as cold as she had been. It must have been the heat rising, or it was simply the fact that she was in the presence of the man that captured her heart. As she walked past his sofa, she shed her sweater and pants, leaving nothing but the skimpy ensemble she called lingerie. As she entered his room, she took a deep breath. It was saturated with his scent, and it permeated her core. She wanted to take in as much as she could, but she was getting tired from her walk.

She made her way over to his bed and stared down at the duvet. It hadn't been moved since she cried out Chance's departure. Winston stayed with her that morning until she fell asleep and then let her be. She slowly removed her bra and panties and pulled the duvet back then melting into his pillow. She pulled it closer to her and buried her face deeper. She thought for a moment that she wanted to cry when she realized her body temperature had risen considerably, and her hands and feet were no longer in stage one hypothermia. She knew that if she cried for him, she would forget why he had left in the first place. She realized that he had to go on this mission to protect her. Her stubbornness prevented him from revealing his destination, because he knew she would follow.

As her eyes grew heavier, she remembered him telling her that this was the one place she could go when she was afraid. He would always be there with her, even was she was most afraid. At first, she didn't think she could face going back there once he was gone, but then she felt crushed enough to find solace. She pulled the duvet over her exposed neck and drifted off to sleep….hoping...and praying…that he would be there when she woke up.


	2. A Night in His Bed 2

**Disclaimer: I do not own Human Target and intend no copyright infringement.**

Author's notes: I watched Alice in Wonderland today. It's just a total acid trip. OH..and no deaths...per Niagrasweasel. ;)

**A Night In His Bed 2**

Blood rushed freely from the top of his head. The gunshot wound had made it's entrance and exit, leaving his lifeless body strewn across the concrete. It only took one small misstep on his part to fall victim to the enemy that continued to haunt his lover's dreams. Baptiste resurfaced on more than one occasion and made it his goal to ruin what personal rebuilding Chance may have started. Yet there his lifeless body was, at the end of Baptiste's gun.

The woman standing before him fell to her knees and as tears streamed down her face, she lifted a shaky hand to his forehead and ran a fingertip over the puckered flesh. He was dead, and she was alone. She was mad. So mad that she raised a balled fist and started beating his chest. He promised to come back to her and make sure she was safe from Baptiste once and for all, but now she had the task of staying safe on her own. With a final blow to his chest she yelled out. "WHY CHANCE?! WHY?!"

* * *

…and then she woke up. The room was drowning in darkness and the air was thick. She had just jerked herself up from the last thing she ever wanted to see. Christopher Chance dead. She willed him to come back to life, but the bullet in his head was preventing that. She reached up and wiped the small trail of sweat that had formed over her furrowed brow and placed her other hand over her heart as if trying to manually slow it down.

Settling, she reached over to the nightstand and switched on the lamp. It illuminated the room enough for her to remember where she was, but not too much that she had to shield her eyes. That was always something she enjoyed about his room. There was only a subtle amount of light that bathed everything. Chance always called it his mood lighting. A small smile came across her face even though she just watched the man she loved die in her arms. But she had to keep some sort of faith that he was ok.

As she moved to get up there was a small box of band-aids beside the lamp. She reached out and picked it up, remembering why it was there.

* * *

They lay in each other's arms in the early morning, spent from their night of passion and released inhibitions. For the first time in a long time, she didn't rush to get up and work. He liked when she relaxed. He was well aware she needed it. He snaked an arm around her as the morning light attempting to come in. She narrowed her eyebrows when she noticed a scar on his arm. "What happened there?" He leaned up and looked at it. "Oh…I think that was from my adventure with Claypool." She shook her head. "I see. You probably have a few more, considering you dance too much with danger." She rolled over to face him then settled in. "As a matter of fact I do." He lifted his chin and pointed at the old scar. "This was from a car chase." Next he pointed to the base of his neck. "This….was from a fight I had during a hostage situation." Then he lifted his shirt to his hipbone. "This…well, this was from Guerrero. We were sparring, and he got me."

She shook her head at his chivalry. She knew he was proud of his battle scars, and he knew she found it sexy. He caught her attention once more. Lifting his pointer finger, he presented it to her. "Now this…..this was pure torture. This really, really sexy woman wanted me to help her do some filing the other day…and as I was putting in the last piece of paper…I got ambushed. This was the result." She chuckled as she eyed up the paper cut. "Well I am so sorry to hear that. Hang on."

She rolled over and reached into the bedside drawer where he kept random stuff and pulled out a box of band-aids. She began to open the box and remove the sticky covering. "Now, I am here to tell you, that with this magic band-aid, I can promise that cut will be better in no time." He smiled at her makeshift doctoring. "I bet it will be faster if you kissed it." She smiled back and placed her lips over the band-aid. "Better?" He nodded. "Much. But I'm sure some early morning sex will really fix it." She laughed out loud. "Of course...because sex fixes everything." He rolled overtop of her and pinned her down. "I'm glad you see things my way." With those fleeting words, he kissed her then proceeded to remind her just how healing their lovemaking could be.

* * *

She went back to her penthouse that afternoon to recompose herself and make some sense of everything. It wasn't like he had ever gone away before. Of course this was different. After several death threats from Baptiste, she decided it was time to tell Chance what was going on. She knew that it would drive him over the edge and he was going to be upset over the fact that she let it even get that far. But deep down she was afraid...afraid for her own life. Christopher Chance was the only one that could protect her.

* * *

She delicately rubbed the face of her cell phone. One more pass over the screen and her finger might have become embedded. For the fifth time that week, Baptiste had called to make an open threat on her life. She had no idea how he got her number, but that was the last thing on her mind.

The chime of the elevator broke her out of the daze she had fallen into. Chance sauntered in and searched the warehouse. She sat patiently until he finally spotted her. A huge smile spread across his face when he stepped into her office. Once he noticed her demeanor, his face instantly changed. "Uh oh. Whatever it is, I didn't do it….and whatever the cost, just take it out of Winston's paycheck." She managed a small smile then motioned for him to sit. He offloaded himself on to her overly expensive couch. She momentarily hung her head down before she spoke to him.

"Chance, um…there's something I need to tell you." Those words caught his attention and he straightened his back. "A couple of weeks ago, I got some phone calls…threatening phone calls. I didn't think much of them, until they kept coming. Normally, I would just contact the authorities and have the person taken care of but…" She paused. "This is different." He raised a brow as if to beckon her on, but he noticed that she wasn't all that willing to continue. "Ilsa, do you know who it is?" She met his eyes as if to find the answers there. He waited, but she wasn't budging. "Ilsa?" She took a deep breath. "It was Baptiste."

That was all he needed to hear. His blood pressure had tripled within seconds. He wasn't mad at her, but was overly upset over the fact that she didn't tell him. He gathered his wits again before he spoke. "Ilsa…why didn't you tell me?" She could only shake her head. "Chance I didn't…" This time, he wasn't as nice. "WHY?!"

The volume of his voice made her jump. She had never heard him yell before and surely didn't think he would ever have the nerve to yell at her. But he was angry. He stood up and paced in front of her desk. A few minutes later, he was able to form words to her. "Ilsa, I'm not….I'm not mad at you….I'm just…." He could see the fear in her eyes. It wasn't from him, but from the thought of his foe making any sort of attempt on her life. "Why didn't you tell me Ilsa? You know how dangerous he is?" This time, it was her own fear that escalated her nerve. She stood up and met his eyes from across the desk. "Chance I didn't think anything of it…until he kept calling. I knew you would be upset and that's why I hesitated."

He realized that his reaction had caused the fear in her, so he scaled back his tone. "Ilsa, as long as I walk the face of this earth, I will protect you no matter what. But you need to understand that I can't do that if you aren't honest with me." She lowered her head again trying to figure out what to say. She knew he was right, but she knew he would set off to take care of the threat. Sensing her concern, he stepped around to the desk in front of her and wrapped his arms around her waist. "Ilsa….look at me." She slowly raised her head and met his gaze. "I'm sorry that I raised my voice at you. I am just unhappy at the fact that this has happened, and you chose not to tell me. Baptiste isn't your everyday criminal. He is a ruthless killer that will stop at nothing to carry out his missions."

She shook her head again. "Chance, I know. But I'm also aware that you will stop at nothing to make sure his threats stop..no matter what. I don't want to lose you." He curled his lips and tilted his head searching for something positive to say. He knew she was right and this had opened Pandora's box. He didn't like when people threatened him or the people he cared about…and he definitely didn't like anyone to threaten the woman he loved.

"Look Ilsa. I am a man that has a jaded past, and you helped me get over that and redeem myself. For the first time in my life, I found a woman who I care enough to die for. You're everything to me, and I don't ever plan on letting some psycho take your life." She nodded her head even though she hated the fact that he would go after him. Chance hugged her closer. "You know you're stubborn right? It looks like I'm going to have to tap your phone now? You are a high risk girlfriend." That made her laugh. She wanted him to stay right there, in his arms, but it wasn't going to happen. She pulled him in closer and met his lips. They were warm, soft and inviting. She always loved to kiss him. She could get lost there for all eternity and never be unhappy again.

When she finally pulled away he had the goofiest grin on his face. She smiled back and leered at him. "It's normally you that uses those lips to get what you want." He shrugged. "Well, maybe you're the one taking advantage of me." She sidestepped him and grabbed his hand. "I suppose then I need to take advantage before you go off adventuring for your sworn enemy." He wasn't going to protest as she led him to the loft.

* * *

It was nearly three weeks since Chance had left. No phone calls, no emails and no sign of where he had been. Ilsa grilled Winston every single day as to where he had gone, but she was only met with vague answers. He too knew she would go after him if she found out.

It had been a particularly slow week and she finished her work early. A walk was exactly what she needed to get her mind off of everything. She gathered her coat and walked towards the elevator. Before the doors opened, an excited Rottweiler jogged up next to her. She raised an eyebrow and looked down at him. "I suppose I could use some company." He wagged the nub on his backside as she went to the kitchen to get his leash. When she returned, he barked. "Ok ok! Let's get on with it."

The pair strolled down the sidewalk and took in the sites of the city. She noted that the weather had gotten better over the past few days. The only places she had ventured were her bed, the office….and his bed. Especially on the nights that she couldn't stop crying. She enjoyed being outside and finally allowing the air to penetrate her lungs. It tingled her lips each time she inhaled and she was happy that she forced herself to go out.

She strolled past mothers with their children; couples kissing and the general feel of the public around her. It always fascinated her how normal the world looked and yet there she was, having been openly threatened by a skilled assassin, that was now being pursued by the man who managed to steal her heart. The low rumble in her belly forced her to stop. She looked at Carmine and smiled. "Well, I think maybe we need a snack." He rubbed his enormous head against her leg and urged her on. "Alright, alright." She spotted a food cart just down the block and they began walking towards it. When they reached their destination, she ordered them both a hotdog and then headed towards a park bench. She laid down Carmine's hotdog and watched as he devoured the his snack. "Oh my, you're as bad as your father. She enjoyed her hotdog and then set off on her way towards the warehouse.

Halfway home, she furrowed her brow and stopped. She reached down to her stomach and inhaled sharply. "Hmmm, that hotdog might not have been the best choice." She continued walking and didn't think much of it until she reached the end of the block. Her tightened abdomen made her stop again, only this time she walked over to the nearby building and leaned against it. Her lower back was glued to the brick face and her breathing became erratic. Two joggers stopped their run when they spotted her. "Excuse me mam? Are you ok?" Ilsa leaned against the thin man standing before her. "I….I don't know…I just…" and then she passed out in his arms.

* * *

Her eyes slowly opened and she took in her surroundings. She leaned up and finally laid her eyes on Ames. "Oh geez, what the heck happened to you?!" Ilsa just shook her head. "I dunno Miss Ames. I was walking Carmine and I can remember eating a hot dog. Then we started home and then it all just went dark. My stomach is killing me." Ames looked over to the door as Winston and Guerrero walked in. Winston placed a hand over her forearm. "You okay Ilsa? You gave us quite a scare. You're becoming more and more like Chance." That stifled a small laugh from her. "Speaking of Mr. Chance…have you heard anything?" He only shook his head, which stopped her from questioning any further. Guerrero pushed his glasses on his nose. "Since you'll be here tonight boss, I'm gonna move my torture chamber to the office…just for tonight." She laughed again. Just then the nurse walked in. "Ok folks, the patient needs some rest." They all said their goodbyes and Winston arranged for her to be picked up. After the nurse left, she lay down and attempted to find sleep.

* * *

He wiped the blood from his split lip and looked at the body below him. He had finally found the man that threatened the woman he loved and killed him. It took him longer than he intended, be he refused to let her be a victim any longer. It was all worth it in the end. He reached down to the limp wrist of Baptiste's and removed the expensive watch. "You won't need this in hell my friend." Then he walked away, never looking back.

* * *

She pulled the duvet up to her chin. It had been two days since she left the hospital and his bed was the only thing that gave her comfort. She stared at the clock on the night stand that glowed 2 AM, and the small white box that sat beside it. Each and every night she would close her eyes tight and open them, praying that Chance would be there beside her. But just like every other time, he wasn't. After being broken hearted for yet another night, sleep had once again defeated her.

* * *

The clock on the nightstand glowed 3:13 AM. The man that entered the bedroom had one intention…to hold her. He walked with stealth over to the bed and switched on the lamp and looked down. Her back was facing him and she was in a heavy slumber. He pursed his lips and closed his eyes knowing the pain she had to endure while he was gone, but it was something he had to do. Never again would he let someone threaten her life.

He gently pulled the covers back, attempting not to wake her, and he crawled in behind her. Reaching one arm around her waist, he embraced her softly. He had managed to find a spot where his stolen sweats didn't cover her soft skin and he gently caressed it. He leaned in further and nuzzled the soft spot on the back of her neck. He felt her quietly stir and loosened his grip. Just enough to allow her to get her bearings.

Ilsa knew that the only way anyone would get into the warehouse was to get past an alphanumeric code, a retina scan and a dog that would eat anything that walked off of the elevator. So she knew it was him. She wanted to jump for joy, but her body was still relaxing from her passing out episode. "I can't tell you how elated I am that you're home Christopher Chance." He leaned back again and allowed her to turn and face him. "Should I go away again so you get an even better sensation?" She leered at him then leaned into his lips.

The kiss was one never to be forgotten. She waited for so long to touch him again and feel his embrace. She hated when he was gone, but she hated even more that he was gone so long, and endangering his life. She could have stayed there forever, but his concern made her stop.

He moved her away then met her eyes. "Tell me, why were you in the hospital? You know I didn't find out until I got back here? I was very upset when I did find out and I should be upset now, but I am happier that I am here with you. All I care about is….." she cut him off. "Chance, I know you care. I have always known you cared. The truth of the matter is that I was in the hospital because I was hurt." He shook his head. "What they hell do you mean you were hurt? Who hurt you?" She smiled. "As a matter of fact you did."

He was slightly taken aback at her comment and searched for an answer. "What do you mean I hurt you? Ilsa…" She raised a fingertip to his lips to silence him again. "Chance, I am fine." She reached over top of him and grabbed the white box on the nightstand and handed it to him. She urged him to open it. "The truth is that the pain was the result of you. In fact, the same pain I might be feeling for the next nine months." He looked at her again in complete confusion. "Ilsa I don't understand. What do you mean the next …." He stopped mid sentence when he pulled the white booties from the tiny box. He looked back at her and his eyes widened with excitement and surprise. All she could do was smile.

**For the record...I just cooked the BEST Chilean Bass...like EVER! **


End file.
